


Have Faith in Both of Us

by Nesswrites



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, HP AU, Harry Potter AU, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, hufflepuff!aziraphale, slytherin!crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 10:42:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19171645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nesswrites/pseuds/Nesswrites
Summary: “Is that what you think this is about?”Aziraphale stopped, twisting his wrist in his grip. “I know you’re probably bored, but it’s just a week until the O.W.Ls start, and after that it’ll all be back to normal.”Crowley scowled at him, dropping his hand rather abruptly. “You think I’d kidnap your books just because I was bored? I’m a Slytherin, but I’m not evil,” he hissed.-----In which Aziraphale stresses about the upcoming exams and Crowley keeps him grounded.





	Have Faith in Both of Us

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! New fandom ahoy! 
> 
> Started planning out a Harry Potter AU for the ineffable husbands and got a bit carried away. Probably going to turn this into a series of oneshots for the AU. Feel free to leave requests for further one shots in the comments or come see me on my tumblr, http://ness-writes.tumblr.com !
> 
> Shout out to my dear, Jared, for inspiring me, fueling my fire in this fandom, and showing me depeche mode lyrics for song titles.

The Hogwarts Library, late in the evening, tended to get quite chilly. Aziraphale, who had been occupying a small table in the corner for an amount of hours he couldn’t be sure of, silently cursed the ‘no food or drink’ rule. 

What he wouldn’t give, in this moment, for a warm cup of tea.

It was nearing the end of his 5th year at Hogwarts, and the O.W.Ls were quickly approaching. While Aziraphale hadn’t ever considered himself one to crack under pressure, he was certainly feeling it now, with the exams looming over him just a week away.

Shivering as a student rushed past his table, he drew his cloak closer and closed his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath. 

_ All of the studying will pay off,  _ he promised himself,  _ It’s all going to be worth it, to ace the exams.  _

He  _ hoped _ it’d be enough. 

It wasn’t that Aziraphale was a poor student, not in the slightest. His grades were generally good, though he was no Ravenclaw, and he’d always been diligent with his studies and his homework. A few of his Hufflepuff house-mates had reached out for study groups with him before, and he’d even been praised by some of the strictest professors. It was usually in relation to getting his stubborn lab-partner and reluctant best friend, Crowley, to listen, but it was praise nonetheless. 

But these were the  _ O.W.Ls.  _ This was an entirely new level of importance that he was having a difficult time comprehending. 

He’d spent most of yesterday in the library, as well as several hours after classes over the past week. He was pretty sure the chair he’d been sitting in would have an impression in the shape of his arse by the time the exams were over, but no one could say he didn’t try.

Drawing his focus back to the issue at hand, Aziraphale let his gaze fall back upon the open textbook in front of him. Charms was the first exam of the two-week period, and he was getting himself pretty worked up over the written portion. 

The Hufflepuff made it about 15 more minutes before the words started swimming on the pages again and he had to lean back in his chair, taking a shuddering breath and scrubbing at his face. If he didn’t do well on these tests, it’d jeopardize his entire life, the classes he could take in the proceeding years, his future  _ job, _ even. And all over some stupid written exam for a class he’d had soaring grades in for every year he’d spent at Hogwarts. 

He had to keep going, and keep working. If he ever wanted to more forward, to follow through with his plans, with  _ Crowley’s  _ plans, he  _ had  _ to keep going. To be an auror, he  _ had  _ to pass nearly everything. 

It only takes another 5 minutes before he can hardly make out the words at all. He wasn’t sure if it was the hours and hours spent hunched over a book or the tears blurring his vision, but it had to be one of the two. Overwhelmed and defeated, Aziraphale dropped his head into his hands, muttering under his breath,  _ stupid, stupid, stupid,  _ before leaning down against the table and trying to keep his tears from ruining his textbook. He’d have to return it at the end of the year, of course, and he certainly didn’t want any fines for damaging the property. Especially after he inevitably flunked all of his classes and got kicked out of the school or something. 

He sat there, with his head down, for only a minute or two before a voice piped up from across the table. “Misery isn’t a good look on you, angel.” 

Raising his head, Aziraphale quickly swiped away tears with his palms, giving a clogged up sniffle as he dried his hands on his pants. Seated laxly in the chair across from him was Crowley, his red hair as curly and messy as ever.

“Crowley,” he said, breathless, forcing a weak smile. “When did you get here, my dear? Come to take up my offer to study together?” Aziraphale knew the question would be brushed off. Crowley had been getting perfect grades since year one, in every class, with almost  _ no  _ time spent studying.  _ A prodigy,  _ one of the professors had said once. Aziraphale tried to ignore the bitterness that welled up inside of him at the thought. 

“You know I’m not here to study,” Crowley said, his voice measured, disinterested. He didn’t look directly at Aziraphale, probably not to let his gaze give anything away. It must have been later than he realized, because his sunglasses were tucked into the collar of his shirt, and his green and silver tie had been discarded. “You missed dinner,” he drawled, finally turning his head to look at Aziraphale. “Again. I figured you must have been killing yourself over your textbooks.” 

A glance down the rows of books and to the windows proved Crowley correct, the sun having already set on the horizon, the last light of day fading with it. “Oh,” Aziraphale said simply, sniffling again. “I guess I didn’t realize.” 

Crowley raised on eyebrow in disbelief, before standing up and pushing his chair in. Oddly considerate for him, Aziraphale noted. Then, in a motion so fluid Aziraphale didn’t fully comprehend it until it had already happened happened, he snatched the textbook from in front of him and closed it with a snap. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale protested, standing with him. “Give that back, I need it! Oh, you’ve just gone and lost my page!”

“You’ll have to pry it away from my cold, dead hands, Zira,” Crowley replied blandly, with no hint of competition or teasing in his voice. From the end of the table, he picked up the rest of Aziraphale’s books and started, without even a glance back, toward the exit of the library. 

“Crowley, please.” Aziraphale called weakly, earning a frustrated sounding ‘ _ shhh’  _ from someone a couple of rows away. He turned around with the intention of offering an apology before realizing that Crowley was getting away, rather swiftly, with all of his textbooks. Guiltily, he followed him out of the library without another hesitation.

Crowley was halfway down the corridor when Aziraphale exited with hardly a goodbye to the librarian, and he had to jog somewhat to catch up. “I don’t know what your plan is, but I need those books back, Crowley,  _ please. _ I have to study or I’ll never pass. I know you’re probably tired of me spending all of my time in the library, but I promise it’ll be over soon.”

Crowley stopped, somewhat abruptly, sending Aziraphale careening right into his back. Once they’d both righted themselves, with Crowley’s lithe fingers wrapped firmly around his wrist, he said, “Is that what you think this is about?” 

Aziraphale stopped, twisting his wrist in his grip. “I know you’re probably  _ bored,  _ but it’s just a week until the O.W.Ls start, and after that it’ll all be back to normal.”

Crowley scowled at him, dropping his hand rather abruptly. “You think I’d kidnap your books just because I was bored? I’m a Slytherin, but I’m not  _ evil, _ ” he hissed. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you, working yourself to death in that stupid library. This is the third time this week you haven’t shown up for dinner, and I’ve barely spoken to you since potions class, on  _ Wednesday.  _ It’s the weekend, Aziraphale, you’re supposed to take a break.” 

“I can’t take a break, Crowley! If I take a break, I’m going to fail my O.W.Ls, and I won’t be able to take the right N.E.W.Ts, and then I’ll  _ never  _ catch up with you, and we can kiss our dream of being aurors together goodbye!” He shouted, feeling a bit like something had broken inside of him, spilling out all of the pent up fears and insecurities he’d been studying to avoid. 

Crowley was frowning, still, but any frustration in his expression had vanished. He raised one hand, quickly swiping his thumb beneath Aziraphale’s eyes, wiping away tears that the Hufflepuff hadn’t even realized he was crying. “Jesus, angel, is that why you’re freaking out about this all? You’ve never had trouble with your grades, why would that change now?” His voice was uncharacteristically gentle, hushed in the empty back corridor of Hogwarts on a Saturday night. 

“If I don’t pass, I can’t be an auror with you,” Aziraphale said, brokenly. 

Crowley sighed, grabbed Aziraphale’s arm, and began leading him down the corridors again. Some ways away, he turned abruptly into an empty alcove, nearing the entrance to the Hufflepuff dormitories. Sniffling tiredly, Aziraphale rubbed at his eyes, letting Crowley guide him to sit on the ground near a potted plant.

Crouching down in front of him, Crowley muttered a spell beneath his breath and summoned a handkerchief, his gaze focused as he wiped away Aziraphale’s tears and tossed it aside. “Having a mental breakdown and spending eight plus hours in the library isn’t going to do you any good. Neither is skipping meals and not sleeping,” he said, his voice firm. “Don’t give me that look, I know you’re probably holed up in your common room every night, too. I’m keeping your books overnight. You can have them back when you meet me at the library in the morning,  _ after  _ breakfast. I have no choice but to monitor your studying so you don’t keel over and die before we even get to the exams.” 

Aziraphale wanted to protest, but Crowley reached into the inner pocket of his cloak and pulled out something wrapped up in a napkin from the dining hall. He handed it over to him, and Aziraphale unwrapped it to reveal half of a sandwich and a pumpkin pastie. “It’s all I could sneak out of the dining hall,” he said simply, moving to sit next to Aziraphale on the floor. “Eat up, then I’m walking you back to your common room. Don’t bother arguing, because you don’t have a say.” 

Aziraphale might have argued, if he hadn’t realized how famished he actually was. Quickly, he scarfed down the food, grateful that Crowley had thought to stow some away for him. He still felt shaky and unsure, nervous about the upcoming exams, but he could feel an ache nagging at the base of his head, and his eyes were beginning to get suspiciously heavy. Once he’d balled up the napkin and set it aside, he let his head fall against Crowley’s shoulder. If the Slytherin had a problem with it, he didn’t say anything, just sighed softly and remained still.

They sat like that in companionable silence for a few minutes before Crowley spoke up, his voice soft. “For someone so smart, you can be pretty stupid, Zira. Your grades are fine, as always, and even if you  _ did  _ fail, it’s not like I’d go off to be an auror  _ without  _ you.”

“You wouldn’t?” Aziraphale asked, raising his head somewhat to look at him. 

“Why would I want to be an auror if I had to work with a bunch of stuffy pricks? It’d only be entertaining if you were doing it, too.” Crowley muttered, his head turned in the other direction.

Aziraphale felt his cheeks go warm, letting his head fall back to Crowley’s shoulder when he realized the Slytherin wasn’t going to meet his gaze, likely too embarrassed at the admission. “Oh. Okay, then. I guess it may not be worth worrying so much, afterall.”

Crowley scoffed, nudging Aziraphale with his arm. “Oh, shut it,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Get up now. I’m taking you to your dorm.” 

Aziraphale stood, dusting away crumbs from his impromptu dinner and letting Crowley gather his textbooks without a fight. The walk to the Hufflepuff dormitories was silent, but they walked close enough together that their arms brushed at every step, their movements in sync.

When they made it to the entrance, Aziraphale hesitated, looking up at Crowley unsurely. The slytherin raised an eyebrow, giving him a strange look, before Aziraphale pushed up on his tip toes and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” he said, his voice quick, “For dinner, and for—” he hesitated. “And for taking care of me. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow, Crowley.” 

The slytherin, his eyes wide from the shock that was such an open admission from Aziraphale, simply nodded. It took him a moment to find his voice, fighting the wave of heat he felt grown on his face. “Y-yeah. No problem. I’ll see you in the morning, Angel.” 

As Aziraphale disappeared behind the closing door of the Hufflepuff dormitories, Crowley dropped his head against the pile of books and groaned aloud. If all he’d had to do to get Aziraphale to kiss him was to bully him into basic self-care, he’d steal his books every day of the year. 


End file.
